


A Future Built for Two

by mute90



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29461380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mute90/pseuds/mute90
Summary: Jack really wanted to retire. He just didn't want to retire alone.
Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24
Collections: Stargate Winter Fic Exchange 2020-21





	A Future Built for Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Titti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/gifts).



‘Retirement’ was a funny-sounding kind of word, wasn’t it? Jack and that word, retirement, had history. It was a lot like his romantic history: lots of promise but it didn’t work out. He’d retired, gotten dragged out of retirement (twice), and then there were those years he figured he’d die before retirement circled back around to become a real concern.

Shockingly, he was wrong.

“It’s time that I retire,” he said, that last word rolling out awkwardly.

Daniel didn’t even look up from his report. “Gonna try that again, huh?”

Jack leaned forward and placed his hands flat on the desk. “I don’t do active missions anymore, Daniel. I push papers. You know, it’s a _special_ kind of hell.”

“You’ve been promoted,” Daniel murmured as he jotted down his notes in cramped handwriting so he could fit a few more lines at the bottom of the paper. “You’re even doing a good job and let me point out how surprising that is when you never seem to leave my office.” 

“Daniel, _you_ never leave your office.”

He finally looked up, considering that, and then tilted his head in acceptance of that very accurate statement. “I’m working.”

“You don’t have to. You can _retire_.” Again, it was funny-sounding.

Daniel snorted. “I’m not retiring, Jack.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I?” He waved a hand to encompass his office and his papers. “Everything I want, everything I’m interested in, is on the other side of that Gate.”

And he ducked his down and went back to writing. Figured.

-

“I should have retired.”

“Here we go…” murmured Daniel. He was tired, but he was also in bed and in isolation. Neither of those things could be blamed on Jack - though he just knew someone was going to try - and so he continued his rant.

“Do you know why I should have retired? Gee, Daniel, I’m glad you asked. I’ll tell you.” In his little observation area on the other side of the glass, he rotated his chair back and forth but his eyes never left Daniel. “If I was retired, I wouldn’t receive yet another call to kindly inform me that the base’s resident kidnapee has been kidnapped - yet again. I gotta tell you. This story is old, probably older than half of those knick knacks in your office.”

“Artifacts of historical significance,” said Daniel, carefully sounding out each word.

“That’s what I said.”

Daniel huffed. He was looking at the ceiling. He'd looked at Jack just once as the door to the observation room opened and Jack said, “Howdy, Daniel.” Since then, there was a sort of staring contest going on with the ceiling.

“Who called you?” Daniel asked.

“Landry. Remember I’m the big guy now. If they don’t keep me informed, I come down hard on them - or something like that.”

“I’m not talking about when...I went missing,” said Daniel, rubbing a hand over his face and then returning attention to the ceiling. “I mean now. Who told you I came back? It hasn’t been that long.”

“Teal’c.”

Daniel almost - almost - looked at him. He could see the little aborted head motion. “Huh.”

“Yeah, I gotta say that was the shortest conversation I’ve ever had.”

“What’d he say?” Daniel wondered.

“It went a little like, ‘O’Neil, you must come.’ I’m just paraphrasing.” He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I had to call Sam and Mitchell for details but - turns out - their explanations were a little thin. Seems you tumbled back through the Gate like it was your average Friday. Had a very contagious but mild - mild for you anyway - case of yada yada sickness.”

“Yada, yada?”

“You know I don’t remember the names.”

“Oh, I know.”

“You didn’t give an explanation, Daniel. You didn’t even lie. Landry might have appreciated a good lie. I don’t think he’s used to how you just say no. I had to remind him you weren’t military; he was grumbling about court martials and reduction in rank. It was a whole thing.”

Daniel gave up on the roof and closed his eyes. “Sorry, Jack,” he said, sniffing once and then just breathing deep, in and out. After a few repetitions, he looked at the glass, at Jack. “What would I do if you retire?”

“ _You_ would retire,” Jack promptly answered. He thought longer and added, “Or get fired.”

“I’d bet on the second one.”

“So would I.” Jack stopped his twisting and got to his feet, clapping his hands together once. “So, tell me what the hell happened out there.”

\- 

“I’m going to retire.”

They were in Jack’s home in Washington, Jack gone gray and tired while Daniel was only going gray but was possibly just as tired. There was a glass in each of their hands and a bottle of alcohol between them that Daniel had pulled from some magical place in his jacket. Things were running fairly smoothly out in the galaxy - comparatively. On good old Planet Earth, Jack ran a fairly smooth operation in D.C. and Daniel was a part of that for two years running.

All very nice.

“I’m retiring,” he repeated and the word itself finally came out smoothly. Jack blamed the alcohol.

Daniel filled up with more alcohol. “If that’s what you wanna do, Jack,” he raised his glass in toast, “I was never stopping you.”

“Yes, you were,” Jack snapped.

Daniel frowned.

“Don’t give me that. I told you years ago that I wanted us to retire and you just - Ugh.” Jack reached for the bottle and Daniel grabbed it first, pulling it back. “Daniel!” he growled.

“No, wait,” Daniel rubbed at his temple with a thumb, “I need you to - you’re inviting me again? To - to retire with you?”

Daniel didn’t have much more to drink than Jack. Jack was sure of it, but he still tried to break it down into easy, irritable pieces for him. “You’re retiring with me, Daniel. For sure, this time. And don’t give me all that crap about wanting everything that’s on the other side of the Gate because you’ve been here - _here_ \- for two years and I think you’ve been pretty damn happy.”

“I have. Yeah.” There was a contemplative silence, Daniel glaring at Jack and then smiling, laughing. He tipped the bottle toward Jack in an accusing kind of way. “You set me up.”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to retire.”  
  


“You could have done it without me.”

Jack rolled his very empty glass in his hand. “I thought about it,” he said, “And then I thought: no.”

Daniel repeated him with a drawn out, “ _No_?”

“Just no,” said Jack. He reached out again, rising slightly from the chair with a groan, to pull the bottle out of Daniel’s loose hold. “Turns out some questions have simple answers. Mine happens to be ‘no.’”

“And mine is...yes?” Daniel said. He leaned forward, elbows on the table. He looked all at once like the geek and the soldier and the unassuming D.C. operative. Jack had known for years that he wasn’t leaving without Daniel, but it had taken him an insane amount of time to realize why.

“Yes?” Jack repeated.

“Yes.”

-

“I’m a retired man,” said Jack.

“Yeah, so you’ve told me,” said Daniel.

“You retired too.”

“I remember doing that. To be honest, it still feels a bit like a fever dream but I guess -.”

Jack grabbed his arm in the hallway, bringing them both to a sudden stop. “As a newly-retired man, I would like to try something.”

Daniel looked at the ground for a moment, hiding what Jack saw was a smile. When he raised his head again, his face was blank. “I say you should go for it.”

Jack stepped forward, all determination, and planted one on Daniel.

It was dry and quick and hard, like a forceful old man trying to land one last kiss before he keeled over and died. When he pulled back, Daniel was biting the inside of his cheek, shoulders shaking. 

“I’m out of practice,” Jack complained. He reached out again, hands going to Daniel’s jaw and sliding back to his neck before pressing forward. Not dry and definitely not quick (but ‘hard’ would become a part of the vocabulary.)

Retirement and Daniel: lots of promise and - damn it - it would work.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Stargate Winter Fic Exchange. For Titti.
> 
> Happy ending, Lots of Dialogue (I love dialogue!) and Getting together.


End file.
